


Do you trust me?

by bluebells



Series: Optional Paz/Din continuity [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Flufftober 2020, Gen, M/M, Reunions, Touch-Starved, parenting is hard, post-Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27062590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: Much as Din once did, he offers a gloved hand. The child perks up at the familiar gesture, and tiny claws fasten around one large, blue index finger. Din smiles at the baby’s soft trill.Written for the prompt: do you trust me?
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Paz Vizsla, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla
Series: Optional Paz/Din continuity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980532
Comments: 16
Kudos: 247





	Do you trust me?

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally shared on Twitter as part of the fictober exercise where I write whatever whenever from the fcktober, whumptober, cocktober and flufftober collection. At the end of each week, I'll clean up the drabbles and share them on AO3. To read as they're released, [go here](https://twitter.com/bellsyafterdark/status/1313761868230475776).

Finding Paz after Nevarro is an accident, a blessing Din is unwilling to disregard.

After travelling so many years alone, he should be accustomed to isolation. Only after Nevarro does he realise he was able to roam so freely because he was comforted by the knowledge (the faith) the covert was sheltered. Knowing he had a place and people to return to provided the confidence to hunt further afield.

Din doesn't know how many of the covert survived. When he sees Paz on Kamino's wharf, it's an out of body experience: the blue infantryman looks statuesque beneath the clouds as the stormwinds whip up the docks. Paz does not see him, visor turned up to watch the approaching storm. His shoulders are broad and strong, the same heavy gun strapped to his back. Once upon a time, such a silhouette would not have been so rare. It’s like witnessing a ghost.

The sight of him makes Din weak with relief.

"There were others," Paz tells him, "Now scattered for their own safety."

"I'm searching for his people," Din introduces him to the child who peers curiously from the crook of Din's elbow. "Alor charged me."

Paz stares. "So, this is the one."

Much as Din once did, he offers a gloved hand. The child perks up at the familiar gesture, and tiny claws fasten around one large, blue index finger. Din smiles at the baby’s soft trill.

“He will be safe, Din,” Paz says. Before, that confident tone made him grind his teeth, but today Din is reassured by its familiar rumble. “We'll help him. We will find some answers.”

Paz is incapable of doing anything by halves. So, Din believes him. They will keep the child safe.

Later, they place the child in the innkeeper's care.

Din frowns at the woman bouncing the bewildered child on her hip. It would only be a few hours, he reminds himself. The child’s expression cracks with a happy chortle and Din releases the breath he'd been holding. A shadow falls across him. He looks up at the other Mandalorian.

Paz searches his visor, presence heavy. "Do you trust me?"

Din's jaw tightens and he swallows, inexplicably nervous. He slows his breaths so the rise and fall of his cuirass will betray nothing. "Let's go."

They only intend to stop by their lodgings to stow away some supplies. The moment the door shuts behind them, the silence descends, and Din realises they are truly alone. His spine tingles in anticipation. He rounds on Paz who is watching him intently, heavy gun settling on the table. They fall still. A quiet tension stretches between them, taut and electric.

Paz is the first to yield with a sigh, gently shaking his head. He offers his hand. "Din."

Long months alone, grieving for the covert and anxious for the child have left Din feeling scattered, a patchwork of a person functioning by instinct, one priority at a time. He knows he’s made mistakes: jobs he would have breezed through six months prior. Some mornings, he forgets to eat as long as the child has been fed. His sleep is as poor as it’s ever been, broken with worry that every bump and hiss in the night is another hunter at their door. It’s only by life-long routines that he’s correctly armoured every day.

He didn’t realise he was struggling until Paz said his name like a sad admission.

Paz knows.

Paz always knows.

Din all but falls into him. He shudders with relief when he’s folded into an embrace and dragged in. An arm closes low around his waist and Paz's other hand brings Din's helm to his shoulder. 

"It's all right," the warm murmur resonates through his body. "Take a minute."

Din all but groans at the strength in those arms when they squeeze him. A deep quiet ripples through him and his chest loosens its tension. He knees weaken with gratitude. His own arms encircle what they can of Paz's thick waist and he holds on.

His helm feebly thunks on Paz's pauldron, feeling embarrassed and foolish. He shakes his head. He shouldn't need this. Years on his own, he's survived without this.

A hand strokes down his back and returns to brace his neck. "You've been alone too long."

Din grunts, unwilling to concede, argue, to do anything that would remove those arms around him. Paz's presence grounds him in a way he's needed down to his core, and his eyes burn with the threat of tears. Shoving the thought aside, he breathes with the rise and fall of Paz's chest.

The hand stroking comfort down his back turns to glide down his side. Gloved fingers tease at the hem of his waist, brushing bare skin. Din's breath catches in his throat. Leather fingertips ease toward the valley of his spine, cautious, gauging his reaction.

 _Do you trust me?_ the touch asks wordlessly.

There's been something building in Din's chest for months, making it hard to breathe. Maybe Paz can help him with that. He's one of the few Din will allow to try.

Looping an arm around Paz's neck, Din almost has to rise off his heels to arch into him. It's a gentle motion, shyer than his reputation deserves, but Paz gasps like he'd been holding his breath and the answer... Din's answer is more than he'd hoped for.

The vest’s buckle comes undone and Paz groans, pushing both hands up Din's back as far as the armour will allow. He hums, pleased at Din's tremble under the massage pressure he kneads into muscle. He learns Din is sensitive beneath his shoulderblade, startling and twisting away with a soft yelp.

Paz pulls him back in, murmuring apologetically. "How much time do we have?"

Face warm, Din considers the information displaying in his HUD. "Enough." He sways unsteadily when Paz pulls back to study his visor, skin abruptly cold and bare. Oh. "No?"

Wait, Paz is right, this... this is not what they're supposed to be doing, they should have been heading out to meet Paz's informants. 

"Get on the bed." 

He blinks up at Paz, ears ringing. "What?"

Paz's head tilts skeptically. "Unless you'd like the table?"

Din blinks from Paz to the modest bed in the far corner. He swallows thickly, heart thudding. He’s not sure what his tell is, but firm hands find his waist and he sways as Paz steps into his space, voice in his ear. 

"No further than you want."

Din tilts his head back to study Paz's visor, braced by the hand low on his back. "What do _you_ want?"

A gloved hand thumbs the chin of his helmet. "I would like you to trust me."

Din's stomach flips and his face burns. This again.

He is short on options right now. He invited Paz to join them and followed his suggestion to seek the innkeeper’s attention for the child. He let Paz unbuckle him and get his hands on Din’s skin. Doesn’t Paz know by now?

Shaking his head, Din takes the man’s hand and leads him toward the bed. He hopes that is enough of an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bellsybuilds)!
> 
>  **Permissions:** You do not need to ask for permission to make translations, podfics, fanfic or fanart for any of my stories-- I do ask that you link back to my original work and let me know because I would LOVE to share what you've created.


End file.
